


Everlasting

by priuchi



Category: Spiral: Suiri no Kizuna
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Canon, i'll keep updating the tags as it goes cause I have a lot planned ok, not spoiler free!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9401021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priuchi/pseuds/priuchi
Summary: As the flow of time continues onward life has become relativity normal for Eyes Rutherford. With the threat of the curse pushed to the very back hallways of his mind there is really only one that keeps him from living a life free from his past, and that thing is the ever looming suspicion that Kiyotaka still has a lot to hide. This suspicion only grows when Rutherford receives a strange package in the mail that suggests the stuff of his best dreams and worst nightmares is real.





	1. Notes Like Chess Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This is post-manga canon, spoilers included!! However, if you watched the anime, didn't finish the manga, or have never touched the series I'd like to think it's written a way that you can still enjoy it- so have at it if you'd like!

“Will you ever stop writing songs about him?”

It came so sudden- as soon as I pulled my fingers back from the worn acrylic keys. His tone was light and friendly enough- but the nature of what he said left me feeling accused. I turn my head to look at him, trying to get a read on what he meant by that. A read, on Kiyotaka. Not possible.

“What makes you assume it’s about anyone? It’s just music.” As if I viewed any of my recent pieces as ‘just’ music. My whole being was poured into those notes. If I wasn’t playing music about him, I was thinking about him. Still, that wasn’t any business of Kiyotaka’s. We didn’t talk about him, that was off limits by my own personal choice.

“It’s the nature of it, Rutherford.”

Damn that bastard. What right did he have to make judgements on people’s emotions like that? He isn’t God- not anymore. I didn’t need him to tell me what to do and think and feel anymore. Ayumu gave me a different kind of hope. A better hope the true Narumi could never offer.

“Say it is about him… what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s been ages. Don’t you think you should move on now?”

“I didn’t invite you over so you could criticize my grieving period, Kiyotaka.” I snapped back, years of unspoken blame threatening to spill over. Kiyotaka sat quietly, staring through me for a long moment, processing. No, calculating. Did everything have to be a test of wits with this guy? It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t even be his friend without him analyzing every word and movement and choice in lunch meat. I sighed, looking him in the eyes. “Sorry. I just want to know what you think of it. I value your input on these things, you know.” Without a word he stood and came to the piano, sliding onto the bench. I moved down to give him room. He ran a hand over the keys before resting his hands in place, saying nothing still as he started to play, sight-reading my piece. 

I was overcome in that moment. His fingers danced across the keys like he had never quit playing in the first place. Something about hearing my own music- something so deeply personal- played by him confused my emotions. I was angry. I was angry at Kiyotaka. Hizumi. Kanone. The whole world. I was sad, for all my wasted years and for the years Kanone would never have. But more than anything I felt lost. Overwhelmed in a world that I was never supposed to be apart of. I wasn’t supposed to make it past 18, and yet here I was at 20, watching Kiyotaka Narumi play piano in my apartment.

Damn him.

He stopped abruptly before finishing, turning his head sharply to look at me. Did he find something wrong with the piece? Or was he planning on breaking it down note by note to prove he was right about it’s subject? The latter seemed more likely.

“Why did you stop?” I managed, my voice coming out more strained than I had expected.

Kiyotaka was painfully silent as the next few minutes slowed to feel like hours to my mind. Was he waiting for me to say something, or was he thinking of his next move in the chess game he played with people’s lives? Either way, I wasn’t going to let him push me around the board like a pawn. I reached for my music, the thought of ripping it to shreds to teach him a lesson on the forefront of my mind. Kiyotaka caught my wrist in his hand just as my fingertips touched the paper.

“You’ll regret it, if you destroy that now.” He said coolly. “It’s a beautiful piece.” And with that he released his grip and stood, making his way to the door. “I told Madoka I’d be home for dinner, so I better head out.” I replied with a nod, turning away. I didn’t move again until he had put his shoes on and shown himself out the door. 

I looked back at my sheet music. If Kiyotaka wouldn’t offer anything other than insulting my muse and then telling me it was “beautiful”, there was at least another person I could confide my music in. I picked the sheets up and stood. It had been a while since we’d seen each other, anyway, and music was the perfect excuse.


	2. Constructive Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eyes pays Ayumu a well overdo visit, during which Ayumu proves once again that he can outshine Kiyotaka.

The last time I had walked the halls of a hospital it had been to see Hizumi. We hadn’t exactly reconciled, and I knew I would never truly be able to forgive him in my heart, but i also knew that he had been played just as much as the rest of us had. It wasn’t really his fault. But I digress. Today’s hospital visit was due to be much less emotional, for the most part. Although it had been a very long time since I had seen my personal hope in person. I knew he had slowly begun to decline like Hizumi had before him- but if anyone could overcome the side effects of his situation, it was Ayumu. 

Unfortunately, I found when i stepped into the room, that I wasn’t the only person who wished to see Kiyotaka’s “little brother” that day. Hiyono Yuizaki- or so that was the name I knew her by- was sitting on the edge of Ayumu’s bed, watching the fingers of his right hand move across the keys of the piano pushed up against his bed. I stood in the doorway just watching for a long moment, realizing my coming here unannounced was probably not the most thought decision I could have made.

What right did I have to be there?

Hiyono turned her head to look over at me- a warm smile coming to her face. Ayumu stopping his playing as she spoke. 

“Rutherford! What a surprise!” 

“Ah,” Ayumu merely gave me a passing glance, speaking in the same familiar, relaxed tone I remembered from him, “I was worried you were an angel of death for a moment there.”

At least Ayumu hadn’t changed. It was commendable, really. Commendable and, somewhat comforting. He truly was a beacon of hope. 

“Sorry to drop in without warning like this, Narumi.” I crossed the distance between myself and the pair. Hiyono looked as young and peppy as ever… it was hard to believe almost everything I knew about her was probably just part of the character she had played at the command of Kiyotaka. “I actually wanted a favor…”

“Well if you’re going to ask for a hand, it’s going to have to be my right one.”

“Your right will do fine. But first, how are you, Ayumu?”

“Well I’m losing control of my left side, sometimes I can’t see, I have a major medical crisis every few days… and this weird girl won’t leave me alone. All in all, I’m hanging in there.” The comment about the ‘weird girl’ had warranted a small interjection from Hiyono, who he promptly ignored. I tried a smile, but apparently it had looked sadder than I had intended to because the next words out of his mouth were; “But seriously, Rutherford, I’m doing well all things considered.” Then he smiled at me, as if to prove that he still could. 

That was we were alike, he and I. We wore masks over our feelings, never speaking them allowed, saving them for the nights spent alone. I wondered how many times he had sat alone in this hospital room, devastated and defeated. He probably ended up in that state as often as I did- if not more than I. 

“Well I’m glad to see you’re still pushing forward.” I swallowed back what ever reservations I had entered the room with, reaching into my bag to pull out the black folder my sheet music rested in. “I came here because I wanted another pianists’ opinion on this piece… would it be alright if I played it for you?” 

~ ~ ~

The girl wiped tears from her brown eyes as I pulled my hands away from the keys. The piano’s final reverberations died away and all that was left was the beeping of Ayumu’s monitors and the feeling of my own raw emotions. I held my breath. Kiyotaka and Ayumu, they were the same on paper. Would the younger Narumi tell me the same things his brother had? My heart started to sink. 

“Can I see the sheet music?” He finally asked after a painfully long moment. I passed it over to him, glancing in his direction. “Can I write on these? What’s this piece called, anyway?” 

“Yes- and I haven’t named it yet.” I let myself breathe again. He was actually going to look at it from a musical standpoint, not as a view into my inner thoughts. 

“I loved it, Eyes.” Hiyono said, sniffing. “It felt so… so open. So fervent.” 

I thanked her quietly, watching Ayumu. He scanned his eyes over my notes, making just a few tweaks of the technical nature. Then he hovered his pencil over the first page for a moment, looking thoughtful before writing something at the top. He squared up the pages before offering them back to me. I looked at what he had written on the first page, finding myself moved beyond words. 

He had given the piece a title. _Everlasting Love._

“It’s kind of corny. I know.” He said with a sigh. “But-” I stopped him there.

“No. It’s fitting.” 

He understood. Of course he understood. Clone or not, there was always a divide between Kiyotaka and Ayumu, and that was it. I was still grieving, Kiyotaka hadn’t been wrong about that. I knew I would always be in a state of grief. But that piece wasn’t written as just another sad song. It was a song of sadness, yes, but also it stood for hope, and forgiveness, and above all else; love. There was no force powerful enough to change how I had felt- how I would always feel- about Kanone, even in his death. I loved him.


	3. Tears

Seeing Ayumu always made me feel a little less heavy. Even faced with the possibility of never recovering he gave off that same hope from when we had first met… and admittedly, I always felt like I needed to be thankful for what I had after visiting him in the hospital. I was never very religious, being cursed at all, but I often found myself praying that he could be saved from the doomed life of a clone. 

At home I played through my piece over and over until my fingers remembered their way across the keys without my eyes needing to pour over my sheet music. I had a concert in a few days and I what better way was there to take a jab at Kiyotaka than to debut the piece unannounced, at a concert he was attending. 

Days leading up to concerts always blurred together. Practice, lighting tests, wardrobe, more practice. I was never nervous about performing. Even when I had been a target and could have been shot dead on the stage I wasn’t nervous. And so everything always went very smoothly for me. I went on stage, played like I always did, made my exit, and then returned for an encore. 

“For my last piece,” I spoke softly into my microphone after the claps had died down. “I would play a new song for you, called _Everlasting Love._ ” 

I wished so dearly to have been able to see Kiyotaka’s face in that moment. I played my song for him again, now in a setting where he had no choice but to keep his thoughts to himself. After I was done I bowed once more and left for my dressing room. I didn’t take the time to get a read on the audience's reception of my piece… I didn’t care. 

“Rutherford.” Kiyotaka’s voice came from my doorway as I was wiping the stage makeup from my face. I didn’t bother turning toward him, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him and I’m sure he knew that.

“Came to bother me about my encore, I assume?”

“I didn’t expect you to play it so soon after writing it. That’s all.” He came over my side, placing a bouquet of purple irises down on the vanity. I glanced down at them, and I felt something inside of my snapping. The part of me that had agreed, years ago, to let the past be past between the two of us… I couldn’t let it haunt me anymore. I had been angry at Hizumi, but never in the same way I was angry at Kiyotaka. I picked up the flowers and held them back out to him.

“I don’t want these. Take them back.” 

“I always bring you flowers.” He said cooly, pushing the flowers back toward me.

“You always bring me irises.”

“You like irises, don’t you?”

“They make me sick, Kiyotaka!” I stood, pushing past him and leaving the room, throwing the flowers into the trash as I left. He called after me, but I just kept walking. Down the hall, out the back doors, and I just kept going, letting the night air cool my face. 

I found myself staring at the school all my friends had gone to. The school Kanone had gone to. Where everything had started doing downhill for him. Fate makes you do funny things, sometimes. 

“Rutherford?” A woman’s familiar, shrill voice spoke up from behind me. “What are you doing here?”

“Hiyono.” I turned to her, blinking. “I was just on a walk.”

“Me too.”

“You’re crying.” She stepped toward me and held a handkerchief out. I took it and wiped under my eye, pulling it back to find it damp. I hadn’t even noticed. I never cried. And yet… 

“Let’s go find a cafe.” She offered.

I obliged.


End file.
